


A River in Egypt

by a_stands_for



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Denial, Exhibitionism, Kissing, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Porn Watching, Slash, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 20:06:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_stands_for/pseuds/a_stands_for
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kink meme.  Originally posted May 2011.</p><p>In which John and Dave come up with a lot of flimsy excuses for the things they've been up to.  Wink wink nudge nudge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A River in Egypt

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Straight-guy sexual scenarios + Denial. Originally posted [here](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/6376.html?thread=7146472#t7146472).
> 
> (Today the A stands for Assertion)
> 
>  

“Okay, the waiter takes your menus and leaves to place your orders. You now have at least 20 minutes, probably longer, with nothing to do but talk. This can make or break your date, dude. What do you do?”

“Um. Oh, gosh. We could talk about movies?”

“Egbert.”

“W-what?”

“Candice has, like, 50 girlfriends. That's all she does all day, jaw jaw jaw; before class, during class, after class, in the lunchroom, on the bus, whatever. Do you know what she does when she gets home?”

“Uh--”

“She gets on the phone, and she talks. The girl is gossip incarnate, man. That's why she's so popular, that and her looks and her daddy's money. I still don't know what you see in her. I especially don't know what _she_ sees in _you_ , to have actually said “sure” when you stumbled up and asked if she would be interested in dinner at the Terrace Bistro. But whatever her reasons, she has granted you this first date, and you can bet it will determine whether you get a second. So my question is: do you want to walk away from that night as _just friends_ , or do you want to sweep her off her feet and send her to bed in a lovestruck haze?”

John stared at Dave with eyes wide and an overwhelmed expression. The blond sighed.

“Your taste in movies is not going to be the way to hook a girl like Candice. Let's strike your hobbies from the conversation list. _Her_ taste in movies may or may not be something she'd gladly enlighten you on in agonizing detail, but I bet you it's something she tells all her friends. Emphasis on _friends._ Let me provide you with some enlightenment, pal. Candice is a very special kind of girl; the kind that puts out. As such, almost every guy at school wants a date with her; her waiting list is usually three months long. She's got high expectations. _Very_ high expectations. This is why I can't figure out why she agreed to a date with _you_.”

“Hey! I'm experienced!”

“Your one-week experience with Rose in 7th grade doesn't count.”

John pouted. “So what would you suggest, Oh Experienced One?”

“Play to your strengths. Show her your charm.”

John chewed on his lip, fidgeting in his seat on the bed. They were in his room, the setting sun casting a red glow to the walls. Tomorrow was Saturday, the day of the date, and John had dragged Dave to his place after school in a state of panic, unsure what had prompted him to blurt out his request to the most popular girl in school and begging the coolkid for advice.

“What strengths are you referring to? 'Cause I really don't think filling my prankster's gambit on her will get me into her p—I mean, her good graces.” He blushed, looking away innocently. Slips like that weren't helping with his previous argument that he liked the cheerleader as a person, and wasn't just being a horny teenager looking for a sure thing. Dave arched one elegant eyebrow, letting his silence speak for itself as his friend grew even redder.

“Try some of your simple magic tricks. Make 'em romantic. Whip roses out of nowhere, light the candle at your table without a match, that sort of thing. Don't make a spectacle of it or it'll get corny. Just surprise her with sleight-of-hand every now and then.”

“Oh. Like I do on you all the time?” John grinned. “Gee, I didn't know I was practicing being romantic!”

“Dammit Egbert, there's a world of difference between appearifying shitty flowers and appearifying the apple juice that should have been with my lunch so I can stew over whether you tampered with it or not.”

“Heh heh.” The satisfied smirk on the dark-haired boy's face made Dave want to punch it off. It always did weird things to his stomach.

“Anyway,” he said with a cough, “try not to be as much of a dork as you usually are. Don't talk about your crappy movies. Don't talk about programming. In fact, try to talk about yourself as little as possible. Talk about her. This girl's got an ego a mile wide, and loves to hear more about herself. But ya gotta do it carefully. If you tell her the same things she hears all the time, she'll get bored.”

“Okay... I think.”

A sigh. Dave wheeled over in John's computer chair until he was directly in front of him. “I can see practice is going to be required.” Blue eyes rolled. “Let me paint the scene here. You're in a quiet corner of the bistro. The lighting is dim, casting soft shadows and glimmering highlights over her hair. Gentle music is drifting through the air, a glowing candle and a checkered tablecloth the only thing between the two of you. She gazes at you with her giant cow eyes, and you reach across and take her hands in your own.”

John's eyes are closed, visualizing the poetic picture. After a moment of silence he opens them to see why Dave hasn't continued, and finds him holding his hands out somewhat impatiently. John gives him a skeptical look, but caves in when he sees that twist to Dave's lips that means he's about to throw in the towel and stalk off. Somewhat hesitantly he takes his best friend's hands, feeling his face grow warm in embarrassment and trying not to think about how weird this looked.

“She looks at you expectantly. What do you say?”

“Um... y-you sure look pretty tonight.”

Snort. “First of all, that sucked. Second of all, if you look away it's not very convincing, and even looks like you're lying.”

“Dude, I can't say that with a straight face looking at _you_.”

“Just remember, I'm playing Candice. Now try again, and this time actually think about it. Remember the scene. Your Princess is waiting.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled before looking up. “Oh, Candice, you're looking especially masculine today.”

Silence.

“That's it, obviously you don't want my help,” Dave growled, pulling away and moving to get up. “Wait, wait!” John cried, snatching his hands back. “Sorry, it's just my defense mechanism! I'll be serious this time, I promise!” The blond glared at him but he didn't flinch, so he finally relaxed back into the chair with a huff. John shifted a bit on the edge of the bed, their hands hovering above their touching knees. He took a deep breath, stared into Dave's shades, and tried again.

“Candice... you probably hear this all the time, but... you're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. All those big-shot movie stars? They've got nothing on you. Your hair shines brighter than a hundred shampoo commercials. Someday you're going to get scouted off the street to model lipstick, 'cause no plastic puffed lips can compare to how naturally kissable yours are. When you walk down the hallways and your hips sashay from side to side like that, all the guys forget what they're saying. You're a polished diamond in a sea of pebbles. You are a goddess among women. It's you.”

More silence. John stared apprehensively at Dave's pokerface expression. “How was that?”

“Better. You're trying at least. It's still very... you.”

John smiled at that. “Well that's the point, isn't it? If I use someone else's lines, then it won't be me winning her over, now will it.”

“I guess. If nothing else, should you manage to survive the night, you can always wow her over with the goodnight kiss.”

“Ah. That.” John squirmed, letting go of Dave's hands so he could cross his arms defensively. “If you say so.”

“ _Oh_. Sorry. I forgot about those teeth.” John hunched his shoulders, hanging his head. Dave had to smile at the pitiful pose. “Well, you've still got a day. With me as your teacher, it should be no problem to take you from slobbering to breath-stealing in no time.”

A hopeful glance from puppy-dog eyes. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even me?”

“Even you. Some people could take years learning how to be a good kisser, and you know why? 'Cause they're learning by theory, or by the ultra-lame technique of kissing pillows or the back of their hands. Even if they are practicing on a real person, odds are that person doesn't know any more then they do. But me? I've got all the moves. My brother spent half a lifetime perfecting them on all his chicks, and he taught me everything he knows. And now, I'm gonna teach it to you.”

“Whoa!”

“Whoa nothin'! Babes will be popping out of the woodwork, hoping for the chance to swap spit with you. You will be the Kissable Idol of Dorks. When Candice finally manages to stumble her way back to her room and dial up her friends, it will be to rave about the way you made her heart go pit-a-pat. By Monday the entire school will be staring at you with new respect. 'Who is this nobody who came out of left field and taught a Madonna like her how to feel like a virgin?' Is this what you want, Egbert?”

“Yeah!” he agreed with enthusiasm.

“Then kiss me and let's get this show on the road.”

John froze like a deer in the headlights. His grin dropped like a stone. “What?”

“How do you _think_ I'm going to teach you?” Dave frowned, leaning back in the chair. “I already told you we weren't studying theory, here.”

“But...” he fumbled, looking away with a flush. Or maybe that was just the setting sun, still. “You're a guy.”

“Your powers of observation astound me.”

“I can't kiss a guy! That's totally gay!”

“How many times did Micheal lock lips with Susan for the school play last year? That didn't make him any straighter.”

“That's different.”

“How? No, really, tell me. I want to know.”

“Bluuuuh,” John squirmed. “It's... because... oh come on, it just is! You're not going to tell me that Bro taught you first hand, are you?”

A bland stare.

“Shit, he totally did, didn't he. That is _sooo_ wrong.”

A stare that was trying very hard not to turn hostile.

“Egbert.”

“...yes?”

“We've been friends for a long time, so I'm gonna let that slide. Now,” Dave leaned forward a bit, reaching back to pull something out of his back pocket. “Do you know what this is?” It was a small square of silvery packaging with a tell-tale circular bump inside.

“It's a condom, Dave,” the boy replied almost reverently.

“Yes. It is, in fact, a condom. But do you know what it represents?”

John shook his head.

“This represents your virginity; specifically, the losing thereof. Do you want to get your rocks off with this chick?”

“Ohgodyes.”

“Good.” The blond waved the packet back and forth in front of John's face, the blue eyes following its every move, then pressed it firmly to his forehead with one finger, right above his black shades. “Then keep your eyes on the prize.”

Dave leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against his best friend's.

John's eyes crossed as they tried to focus on the item in question, but he didn't recoil. His face grew incredibly hot, though. After a moment, Dave pulled away and put the condom in John's hand. “Okay, now that we've broke the initial barrier, let's work on technique. Step 1: Don't sit there like a dead fish.”

“Buh--”

_Smoooooch!_

Hesitantly, John closed his eyes and kissed back. He tried to copy the way the coolkid moved his lips and varied the pressure, and had to admit that it felt really good. Like, it sent tingles through his body. He had to stop himself from leaning forward when Dave pulled away so he could speak. “Step 2: What you do with your hands is just as important as what you're doing with your mouth.” Their lips met again, and this time Dave's hands unleashed a flurry of distracting sensations. Fingers trailed lightly up his arms and slipped into his hair, then stroked his jaw, then smoothed down his back, then wrapped tightly around him, pulling their bodies close. John nearly forgot that he was supposed to be copying the movements, but eventually got his act together and explored Dave's body in a similar fashion.

Dave surprised them both by letting out a pleased moan. They broke apart and he gave a little cough, readjusting his sunglasses. “O-obviously you're not going to want to let your hands wander too near her chest on the first date, or you'll come off as a creeper. Unless she's just that easy. Anyway. Step 3! Open mouthed kissing. Part your lips as you kiss, and try to get her to do the same. Do not under any circumstances get too far ahead of her. If your mouth is open much wider than hers, you'll no longer be kissing her lips; you'll just be slobbering over her face. Slobber is the enemy.”

“No slobbering. Got it.” They tried it out, Dave once again showing by example first and then letting John try it for himself. When the black-haired boy's hands stilled they received a sudden flick; he jumped but quickly put them in motion again, thumbs tracing circles over the other boy's back. Not enough to be distracting, just an additional pleasant feeling. Fingers combed softly through his hair in return. Satisfied, Dave apparently decided to move right on to step 4 without preamble, because his tongue suddenly brushed against his. John's fingers clenched around Dave's shirt, but he calmed back down after a moment. Step by step he practiced for himself everything that he felt his friend do; gentle sweeps over the other's tongue, teasing touches to the roof of his mouth, and swift swipes across rows of slick teeth (Dave seemed obsessively drawn to John's endowment in that department.) All the while, their lips moved against each other and their hands roamed. They were on the edge of their seats, legs interlocked so they could get as close as possible without standing up or crawling in the other's lap. Heavy breaths passed through their noses, blowing loudly in each other's ears.

The sun finished setting, casting the room in darkness. John's hesitancy had long since vanished, and the practice was filling his head with confidence and his body with fire. He met Dave move for move, taking entirely too much delight in the urgency stealing over the coolkid's previously gentle, languid pace.  _I guess I'm a quick learner!_

John felt Dave's hands start pressing against his shoulders. It almost seemed like he was trying to push him back onto the bed. It must have been his imagination, though, because a moment later he broke the kiss and leaned back. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he appeared to be staring at his hands in surprise.

“Um,” he finally mumbled, uncharacteristically. “It got dark.”

“Huh, it did. Let me get the lights. Wouldn't want you to have to take off your shades!” John teased. He slipped around his friend and made his way blindly to the doorway, flipping the switch. For a moment they just stared at each other; both had ruffled hair, rumpled shirts, and flushed faces with red, wet lips. In other words, they looked like people who'd just had an intense make-out session.

John snickered. Dave rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitched. John started laughing, unmanly giggles that he tried to stifle unsuccessfully behind his hand. Dave shook his head but couldn't keep himself from chuckling along, that certain smile stealing across his face that made his dimples (that he furiously denied having) show. Levity overpowered the discomfort that would have filled the room otherwise. Dave finally stood, stretching the kinks out of his back as he walked over and gave John's shoulder a pat. “Well, I think we can safely say now that you'll wow over any chick lucky enough to lock lips with you. I'm going to head on home. Good luck on your date tomorrow.”

“Thanks! For everything. I'll let you know how it goes!” he said with a hopeful grin. Dave gave him a fist bunp and headed on out, while John recovered the condom from his bed and flopped down, heart racing as his mind plotted out the morrow's events.

* * *

Dave knew something was wrong the moment he opened the door to his apartment and found John on the other side, a wounded expression on his face and unshed tears glistening behind square glasses. It was evening, a half hour before the date was supposed to take place.

“Egbert? What's up?”

“Can I come in?” he choked out. Dave smoothly stood aside and let him pass, locking the door behind him and leading him to his room. John paced around restlessly, picking up magazines and putting them back down immediately, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to keep his head turned away. “Candice called. She said she's not coming. She said... she only agreed because she was trying to make one of her exes jealous. She said they're hooking back up so she can't go to dinner with me after all. She said I should be thankful, because she doubted I could afford the Terrace Bistro anyway.”

“That bitch.”

John gave a pathetic bark of a laugh that sounded half like a sob. Normally he would have defended her at this point, but... “Jeez, she could've just said she was getting back together with an ex and left all the rest of that stuff out! Why would she go out of her way to... to...”

Dave was suddenly in front of him, wrapping his arms around his quivering torso.

“D-dude, what are you doing?” John sniffled, his head over his friend's shoulder.

“Shhhh. Only bro-hugs now.”

John only resisted a moment before hesitantly returning the embrace. He managed to get one hand high enough to pull his glasses off, then buried his face in Dave's shirt. “This is so gaaaaaay,” came the muffled complaint.

“You survived yesterday's lessons just fine. A little comforting's not going to magically change your orientation.” John gave a sad little chuckle. “Candice is, and always has been, a shallow, spiteful little man-eater. The only difference is now _you_ can see it, too. I will never forgive her for hurting you, but at least she did it early instead of stringing you along and draining you dry. Come on. I know exactly what you need.”

Dave steered him over to sit on the bed. “What are you doing?” John sniffed.

“We're going to watch a tough guy with a heart of gold pass out bunnies like it's Christmas.”

He breathed out a laugh. “You don't even own Con Air.”

“I have the internet. What more does a guy need?”

* * *

Two hours later, John was cried out. If he wanted to pretend it was because of the movie, Dave wasn't going to argue with him.

“Feel better?”

“A little. I guess.” John pulled something out of his pocket, playing with it between his fingers. “Stupid condom, getting my hopes up,” he muttered.

“You know what you need?” Dave said suddenly. “You need to burn the edge off your frustrations. Then maybe they won't build up to such levels that you make rash decisions.” He hopped up from his spot on the floor where he'd been reclining against the bed and started messing with his computer again. “A little... release.”

“What is it?” John asked as something new started playing. Dave took his seat again as he answered.

“It's called 'porn,' Egbert. I trust even you have heard of it.”

“I have the internet too, Dave,” he responded with a roll of his eyes. “But are you really going to sit there and watch it with me?”

“Why not? It's my room, my computer, and my porn collection.”

“Yeah, but...” John squirmed, glancing between his friend's upturned head and the computer monitor. “Isn't this the sort of thing one usually does... alone?”

“It goes by degrees. If I were you and your Dad walked in on me, I'm sure I'd die of embarrassment and get a stern lecture besides. If I were my awesome self, which I am, and Bro intruded on me in the middle of beating it, I'd be a little embarrassed but I know he'd just mind his own business and leave. With you? Hey, we're watching it for the same purpose, we know perfectly well what we're gonna do. It'd be kinda silly to kick one of us out to the living room to wait impatiently for the other to be done.”

“I... guess that makes sense?” he said, sounding very uncertain. “It still seems kinda g--”

“God, Egbert, stop throwing that word around like a homophobe.”

“Sorry.”

“It's perfectly het porn. Would you feel better if I played some lesbian action instead?”

“Do you have some?” he perked up. Dave snorted.

“So gay is okay as long as it's with girls, huh.” John started to retort defensively but spotted the teasing smile on the blond's face. “It's already in the line-up, actually.” A pink tongue stuck out in response, and they both finally turned to focus on the video.

The stories were all perfectly silly, if you could even call them stories at all. A man working late at night got a surprise visit in his office by his smokin' hot secretary. A pizza guy delivered to a woman who had no cash, but offered to pay in other ways. A man supposedly young enough to still be attending school got held back for detention, and his sexbomb teacher had other plans for him than writing lines. But the blatantly obvious wish-fulfillment fantasy of it all did nothing to detract from the sexiness of shirts coming off and breasts bouncing in release. John, who until now had only partaken in front-page-freebees of various sex sites (hastily erasing his history and cache afterwards,) was almost too embarrassed and red-faced to watch. Almost.

The two boys were separated by the distance in height from the floor to the bed, but John still glanced nervously at his friend to make sure he wasn't peeking as he unzipped his pants to get some of the pressure off his painfully aroused member. Dave had to have heard the sound, but he showed no reaction. Eyes back on the monitor, but still occasionally darting over just to ease his mind, he slipped a hand into his underwear, trying not to breath too noisily as he stroked his fingers over his erection. The breathy screams from the porn probably covered up any noise he made, though, in addition to turning him on even more.

Dave rolled his head back on top of the bed, causing John to have a mini-heart attack before realizing that it was also facing away from him. His mouth was open a little, and if John could have turned any redder he would have upon realizing his friend was doing much the same thing with his hands as he was. He furiously trained his eyes on the screen, forbidding them from wandering any more.

But he could still hear.

John was used to wanking it in absolute secrecy, making not so much as a squeak. Dave, however, felt no such restrictions. Soft breathy moans of pleasure curled out from his lips, deep rumbles growling from his throat. As he got more enthusiastic, curses were added to the mix.

It was incredibly embarrassing.

It was quite possibly hotter than the porn.

John tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was already hard, and that the noises were just complementing the ones coming from Dave's expensive speakers. It was probably just the novelty of hearing something live, right in front of him instead of a prerecording. Yeah, that was definitely it. His hands pumped faster over his dick as he tried to loosen up, inspiring him to make a few whimpers of his own. Perhaps Dave heard it and enjoyed the same novelty, because his moans grew shakier and his hands seemed to be moving even faster, judging by the slight vibration that was transferred to the bed.

On the screen, spunk was spurting across faces like some kind of bizarre facial, but John found it to be less interesting then it should have been. Nothing is quite as tempting as that which is restricted, and while porn would  _normally_ be the forbidden fruit in this situation, its viewing had been expressly allowed, while looking at his friend was not...

Dave's head was still thrown back and turned to the side against the covers, the tendons of his neck taut and exposed. Before he could collect his wits and talk himself out of it, John leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes trailing down the blond's chest to his lap. The bed springs creaked softly with the shift of his weight. Dave suddenly choked on nothing and began to spasm, whitish globs firing from the prick grasped tightly within his hands.

“ _Fuck!_ ” John couldn't help hissing as he was suddenly pushed over the edge, pumping hard as he made a mess over his pants, unable to pull his eyes away from their illicit target.

When he finally did look up, it was to realize that Dave had turned his head and was looking at him. “Sorry!” John yelped, leaning back and holding his hands up in apology, only to quickly bring them back down to shield his exposure. “I didn't mean to look!”

“It's okay,” Dave reassured him, his voice not as smooth as normal. “ _I_ didn't mean to show off.” He turned away, reaching a hand up to run it through his hair and just barely catching himself. “That must be what Bro is always talking about, the 'thrill of the watched.'”

“W-” John shifted uncomfortably, trying to avoid looking at him. “What's that?”

“He says there are two main components to any webcam business; the voyeurs, who enjoy the 'thrill of the watcher,' and the exhibitionists, who enjoy the 'thrill of the watched.' I thought the whole concept was retarded, but...” he turned away. Was that a blush staining his cheeks? “D-damn it all if I wasn't a little affected.”

“You knew I was looking?” John clarified in woeful embarrassment.

“I knew you were listening. God, I knew I should have put a lid on it, you were _right there_ , but the thought just made me louder. And then I felt the bed shift and I—I just lost it. Sorry. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable or bait you, I promise.”

“Oh. Um. It's... okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck and instantly made a face, regretting it. “I guess I turned out to be one of those 'thrill of the watcher' people.”

“Really?”

“Your videos couldn't even compete!”

“Well... of course not!” he scoffed, treading back into more comfortable territory. “I _am_ that awesome, after all.” He grinned, and John grinned back. 

Nope, nothing gay here!

Dave shut down the playlist and they took turns in the shower. Sleeping over was something that happened so often, they each kept a spare set of pjs, clothes, and toothbrushes at each other's places. Dave rolled out John's sleeping bag for him while he rang up his Dad, then they crawled into their usual arrangements for the night. The gentle hum of the city at night drifted across the room in the dark.

“Hey, Dave?” the dark haired boy called softly after a moment from the floor. The bed creaked as its owner rolled over.

“Yeah?”

“We never got to the lesbian porn.”

A chuckle. “Not tired, huh?”

“Nope!”

“Egbert, you're insatiable.” The boy in question grinned shamelessly. Dave got up and turned his computer monitor on, bathing the room with a dim but glaring light. When he turned around it was to discover John sitting innocently on one side of his bed. He arched an eyebrow, a useless gesture considering he was in silhouette, before nonchalantly sliding in next to him.

Sure. Whatever.

The video played, sexy girls sucking face and groping breasts. It was incredibly hot. That  _totally_ explained why, halfway through the porno, neither of them were watching it anymore.

Dave had fallen onto his back at some point, boxers pushed down as he jerked off, making the most delicious noises because he knew it was egging Egbert on. John was twisted to face him, eyes devouring the way his best friend writhed and panted, knowing he was putting on a show for him and loving every minute of it. He could only imagine what his own expression looked like, because every time Dave's head turned in his direction, he seemed to step it up a notch. Watching the normally dignified coolkid acting like a cat in heat beside him was... was...  _fanfuckingorgasmatastic!_ John keened, rubbing himself faster. He might have said that last part out loud. He didn't care.

Dave rocked his hips, bucking and whimpering and biting his lips. John couldn't keep his eyes off him! The lesbians were long forgotten, and the thought stroked his ego with a vicious wave of pleasure. Before today he'd had no idea how much it turned him on to drive someone else crazy. His brother would probably be proud. Ironically. John was deliriously close to the edge, and it was all because of  _his_ actions. From what he could tell in the harsh light the computer cast in the darkness, John's blue pupils were completely blown, absorbing his every move. He stared down at him from above, licking his lips and rambling nonsensical praises between gasps. 

It was  _so_ dirty. It was  _so_ private. It was  _so_ giving him the most mind-blowing orgasm he'd ever had.

Dave shuddered and squeezed himself as the organ pumped in his grasp, pleasure tearing through his veins as his release tore into the air. John groaned shakily at the sight, pumping himself with wild abandon until he followed suit. Credits started rolling, their diminished light source trailing lines up their heaving chests. In a few moments they would be plunged into darkness.

Dave took the opportunity to lean up enough to pull off his shirt and use it to clean up. John stirred enough to do the same, then collapsed on the bed beside him. Post-orgasm sleepiness was rapidly stealing over them, and they were perfectly okay with that.

It didn't even occur to them until morning, when they woke in a tangled pile of limbs and bare, sweaty skin, that it was the first time they'd spent the night in the same bed. Which might have been a  _little_ gay. Especially considering that they'd got there in the first place due to getting it off by getting each other off. Okay, that was probably more than a little gay in retrospect. But not really! They were just really close bros! 

To make sure, John tried thinking about breasts. Yup, still hot! He eyeballed Bro in the kitchen when they went to get breakfast, the muscular man arching an eyebrow at his very red-faced little brother. Yup, still just a dude.

Everything was still cool and heterosexual in John-Land, he reassured himself. Besides, it's not like they touched each other or anything like that! That would totally be crossing a line.

* * *

The next weekend found the boys jerking each other off to the background noise of ignored porn. John had initiated it, much to Dave's surprise. But it was okay! He was just lending a pal a helping hand. It felt so much better when the hand on your dick wasn't your own, that was all. They were just horny teenagers, doing whatever feels good. It's not like they'd be doing this if they had girlfriends.

* * *

The next week, Candice broke up with her boyfriend (again.) She approached John with lashes batting and juicy lips pursed, asking cutely if he would ever forgive her and couldn't she make it up to him? Polished nails trailed in teasingly erotic motions across his arms. John closed his hand gently across her own, then pried it off. She walked away from their conversation in an offended huff. By the end of the day, half the school was glaring at him like dirt.

The other half was clapping him on the back every time he walked past.

That weekend he pinned Dave to the bed and made use of their kissing lessons to bone-melting effect.

The blond had stuttered out a few objections at first: “W-what? J--Egbert, I don't see how we can justify--mmmmm...” but John lavished his mouth with his tongue and ground their hips together. Dave quickly lost track of what he was saying.

John took a break from his attack to gaze down at his best friend, stretched out beneath him with parted, moistened lips. He slipped a hand up to the sunglasses he had given him and slipped them off, ignoring the yelp of alarm. Gorgeous red eyes, wide and vulnerable, stared into his own as if hypnotized. Without his shades to hide behind, the coolkid's nervousness and desire were as easy to read as the blush across his freckled cheeks.

“I've decided,” John stated, his own apprehension creeping into his voice, “that I don't have to justify everything I want, either to myself or to the world. Is... is that okay with you?”

Dave stared into those big, blue orbs. They were a shade that often haunted his dreams.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea and I am totally cool with it, Egb--I mean. Um. J-” he took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his friend and trying to work up a playfully sultry tone. “John.”

It just wasn't the same without the shades.

It was  _way_ sexier.

They melted into each other, two fantastic kissers kissing fantastically. It may or may not have been totally gay. They both decided they could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out this sexy fanart from doodle!anon, [here!](http://i.imgur.com/rwYI7.jpg)


End file.
